


An Unpitied Sacrifice

by Corycides



Series: 100 Fics in 100 Days [30]
Category: Revolution (TV)
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-02-21
Updated: 2013-02-21
Packaged: 2017-11-30 00:04:24
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 833
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/693060
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Corycides/pseuds/Corycides
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>After the war is over, Bass suffers through a long day at his trial - but he knows it won't last much longer.</p>
            </blockquote>





	An Unpitied Sacrifice

  


Bass lay down on the bed, moving carefully to avoid jarring his recently relocated shoulder, and folded his good arm over his eyes. It had been a long day, but it would be over soon. 

When he had imagined his downfall it had been blood-stained and glorious like a Stephen Spielberg movie, with a slow motion cut away from the inevitable. Not this tedious show of bureaucracy, led by some dried up stick up a man with a sour little voice that made even Bass' laundry list of atrocities seem humdrum. 

A town burned here, a farm seized there and the little matter of overthrowing the government of the United States. Map it out and see the route a monster took to power – pay no attention to the rapists and thieves and petty gangland emperors behind the curtain. Or that their government was the only one with the power and financial clout to press the button on this. Who else was in the frame? The Russians? The Chinese? Greece? 

One phrase stuck with him though, while the others slid out from between his ears like water. 'General Sebastian Monroe, Founding Father of the Monroe Republic'. He'd wanted to protest. Damn him all they wanted for things he'd done, but the Republic hadn't been birthed from his brain. From the very beginning it had been Miles' hand that raised and shaped this thing, Miles who'd dreamt of its future like any proud Dad.

Bass had never managed to look beyond a desperate desire for it not to die. Only for Miles to come back with a new, cuter baby and expect them all to pull the plug.

A door creaked. Bass moved his arm and watched as a lean, dark figure stepped into the shadows, face pale against the dark iron bars. Even after everything – 'You mean nothing to me' – Bass couldn't help but smile at him. It made him feel better to watch Miles flinch.

'How did you swing visitation?' he asked, thinking about staying down as opposed to sitting up. 

'We want to find Jeremy,' he said, and quickly corrected himself. 'Captain Baker.'

Sitting up won. Bass clumsily levered himself upright and leant back against the metal bedframe. 'I won't tell you that.'

'I know. I never meant what I said.'

'I know,' Bass said, and wondered if Miles was lying as much as him. 'How's Rachel?'

He was surprised to find himself genuinely interested in the answer, but he supposed 7 years could pass for friendship if you didn't know any better.

'Looking forward to seeing you hung,' Miles said. Apparently Rachel wasn't as soft-hearted as Bass. 'Charlie's ruined her knee.'

'That's a shame,' Bass commiserated. 'She was a good soldier.'

'She's a good person. She's never need to be a soldier again.'

'Please, you don't believe that any more than I do,' Bass said. 'The Plains Nation will be first. I'd be surprised if they aren't already testing your borders...'

He paused, looking at Miles expectantly. The other man just stared back, so Bass shrugged and went on.

'Then you'll have to raise an army – a standing army, not just a sweaty group of farmers you dragged out of bed or their wife at a moment's notice and who take three days to master standing in a straight line. - and oh, the citizens will love that.'

Miles didn't look as though any of these ideas were new thoughts to him. Misery bagged his eyes and carved scallops out of his face under his cheekbones. Bass would feel bad for him, but... under the circumstances. He stood up and clasped his hands behind his back.

'Come on, Miles,' he said. 'Get it over with. Third time's the charm.'

'I don't want to do this, Bass,' Miles said, voice cracking like bones in his throat. 'But...'

'All those atrocities, where I wasn't alone,' Bass said.

'All the ones where I was alone,' Miles countered miserably. He pulled a gun from his jacket and aimed. 'I can't make them look at it. They would never forgive me and you're right, war is coming. They'll need me.'

'She,' Bass corrected. 'Everyone else is gone aren't they?' Nora to Texas, Danny to heaven...just DO IT.'

Bass barked the orders and Miles' finger jerked, pavlovian response to the shadow of their old drill sergeant. He controlled it. 

'Can't do it?' Bass asked. 'Still?'

'You're my friend,' Miles said, lowering the gun. 'Still. Always.'

Bass held out an arm through the bars and hugged him, stroking his hair. 'Give me the gun,' he said. 'Before you do something stupid with it'

Miles obeyed before it caught up with him it was a bad idea. He grabbed for it back, but Bass stepped back out of reach.

'Goodbye, Miles,' he said, raising the gun in one smooth motion and shooting himself in the head as Miles threw himself against the bars.

It was a victory in a way. After tonight, he'd never be far from Miles' thoughts.

  
  



End file.
